“Is Mr. Wilmer at home?” the woman asked in a faint voice.
“He is; do you wish to see him?”
“Yes, please tell him that a lady would like to see him alone.”
“Some one in trouble, I suppose,” thought Scott, as the boy went to him with the message. “Bring the woman in,” he said.
“You may see him,” the boy said, “come this way, madam.” Then the door closed after her, and she stood trembling in Scott’s presence. He placed an easy-chair, and she sank wearily on its cushions.
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Yes, there is a great deal if you will,” she said as she raised her veil.
She was trembling in every limb, and her lips had grown so stiff and white that she could scarcely speak, but she gasped at last after a mighty effort:
“Scott, don’t you know me?”